Dr. Akston
I am a manager, foreman, and small business owner.
I had a horrifying experience yesterday that is still bothering me this morning. My wife and I had stopped by a local McDonald's franchise to grab some fries and a shake. After about 30 seconds of being ignored in an otherwise empty restaurant, one of the employees behind the counter noticed us and greeted me with a "Yeah?".
I stated my order simply, as I always do, having worked in restaurants before. I find simplicity and straight-forwardness to be helpful to my server as well as being the best way to ensure I get exactly what I want. After telling the young man that I would like a large chocolate shake and a large order of fries, my wife stated what she would like as well.
After a long, drawn-out series of pushing touch-screen buttons, the employee looked up at me and said "Um... so you wanted a shake, right?" Hmmmm. Okay, he's running a little behind in the mental department. My wife and I repeat our order, glancing at eachother with the look we reserve for "Are you gonna check the bag or shall I", since we know what's coming. Other people have entered the store, and a line is beginning to form behind us.
Finally, we get to the traditional portion of the transaction where I produce a means of payment and the teller either accepts my card or counts out change. I had a debit card, and there was a small card-reading machine directly in front of me. Instead of the "Welcome to McDonald's" text that I am accustomed to seeing on the miniature screen, there's an informative message stating "Service Unavailable".
Me: "I'm not sure this machine is working properly."
Counter: "Just swipe your card."
Me: (shrugging and swiping my card)
A beat.
Me: "I don't think it's prepared to read my card. It says 'service unavailable.'"
Counter: "Try it again."
Me: (second attempt)
Another beat. Line continues to grow behind us.
Me: "Perhaps there's another way to swipe my card?"
And then, to my horror and disgust, the young man at the counter turns and bellows "MAURINE!!!". From somewhere in the back I hear, "what is it?"... and the guy shouts "Screen's broke.". After several repetitions of "What do you mean it's broke", and "Screen's broke", a middle-aged lady trundles around the counter and looks at his ordering computer.
By this point the assistant manager has jumped to the rescue, calling the employee who took my order a moron. In front of a line of customers. After taking a cursory inventory of the situation, she looks at the manager, points to the offending credit card machine, and grunts... "Fix it".
Fix it.
I looked at my wife, whom I adore, and part of me despaired. The other part of my mind sat down at a little roadside diner. Akston's diner, to be more specific. I watched the short-order cook prepare simple ingredients with efficiency and care, presenting me a creation perfect in it's proportions and delicious beyond compare. No wasted movement, no wasted conversation... just a consummate professional satisfying the needs of his customer.
That's the kind of service that I try to provide - efficiency, professional, and made-to-order. But why is it that more and more, I have to delve into my imagination in order to find others with the same ethic? Part of me wonders how long I'll struggle at it before the day comes. The day where I drop my tools and wander off in search of the Gulch...
- V -
I had a horrifying experience yesterday that is still bothering me this morning. My wife and I had stopped by a local McDonald's franchise to grab some fries and a shake. After about 30 seconds of being ignored in an otherwise empty restaurant, one of the employees behind the counter noticed us and greeted me with a "Yeah?".
I stated my order simply, as I always do, having worked in restaurants before. I find simplicity and straight-forwardness to be helpful to my server as well as being the best way to ensure I get exactly what I want. After telling the young man that I would like a large chocolate shake and a large order of fries, my wife stated what she would like as well.
After a long, drawn-out series of pushing touch-screen buttons, the employee looked up at me and said "Um... so you wanted a shake, right?" Hmmmm. Okay, he's running a little behind in the mental department. My wife and I repeat our order, glancing at eachother with the look we reserve for "Are you gonna check the bag or shall I", since we know what's coming. Other people have entered the store, and a line is beginning to form behind us.
Finally, we get to the traditional portion of the transaction where I produce a means of payment and the teller either accepts my card or counts out change. I had a debit card, and there was a small card-reading machine directly in front of me. Instead of the "Welcome to McDonald's" text that I am accustomed to seeing on the miniature screen, there's an informative message stating "Service Unavailable".
Me: "I'm not sure this machine is working properly."
Counter: "Just swipe your card."
Me: (shrugging and swiping my card)
A beat.
Me: "I don't think it's prepared to read my card. It says 'service unavailable.'"
Counter: "Try it again."
Me: (second attempt)
Another beat. Line continues to grow behind us.
Me: "Perhaps there's another way to swipe my card?"
And then, to my horror and disgust, the young man at the counter turns and bellows "MAURINE!!!". From somewhere in the back I hear, "what is it?"... and the guy shouts "Screen's broke.". After several repetitions of "What do you mean it's broke", and "Screen's broke", a middle-aged lady trundles around the counter and looks at his ordering computer.
By this point the assistant manager has jumped to the rescue, calling the employee who took my order a moron. In front of a line of customers. After taking a cursory inventory of the situation, she looks at the manager, points to the offending credit card machine, and grunts... "Fix it".
Fix it.
I looked at my wife, whom I adore, and part of me despaired. The other part of my mind sat down at a little roadside diner. Akston's diner, to be more specific. I watched the short-order cook prepare simple ingredients with efficiency and care, presenting me a creation perfect in it's proportions and delicious beyond compare. No wasted movement, no wasted conversation... just a consummate professional satisfying the needs of his customer.
That's the kind of service that I try to provide - efficiency, professional, and made-to-order. But why is it that more and more, I have to delve into my imagination in order to find others with the same ethic? Part of me wonders how long I'll struggle at it before the day comes. The day where I drop my tools and wander off in search of the Gulch...
- V -